


His Love is Like a Drug

by NewToWriting



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, BDSM, Blowjobs, But also lots of smut, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Kinky, Loving relationships, M/M, Multi, Porn With Plot, Requited Love, Spanking, Virginity, everyone is horny and in love, everything is fully consentual, handjobs, lots and lots of vanilla sex too though, no powers, peter parker is a student, so much more, tony and steve are professors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 19:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19752055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewToWriting/pseuds/NewToWriting
Summary: Tony and Steve fall in love. Lots of fluff. Lots of smut. Please enjoy.This is just the first chapter of many to come, so be ready!





	His Love is Like a Drug

"That's a wrap for today, guys. I unfortunately have a faculty senate meeting to attend so you guys get out early." Professor Tony Stark announced. The sharply dressed lecturer quickly turned off the projector and began gathering his things.

"Oh, and don't forget your papers on nonlinear dynamics are due on Thursday!"

* * *

The faculty senate meeting was as boring as always. Tony has been the physics department's representative for all of 6 weeks and was already done with the job. Alas, the group was formed on a rotating basis, with each university department sending a new representative each academic year.

The topic of today's meeting: additions to the academic code of conduct. Something that Tony could not care less about. He had better things to do. He needed to get to his lab and work on his latest feats of engineering. Only fifty percent of his job involved teaching -- the rest was research. Luckily, the tenure agreement he had allowed him to use his research for private companies. He was a contract engineer for everyone from NASA to Apple; he even occasionally dabbled in military tech. What he did not dabble in, however, was policies that he thought the university administration should deal with, not the faculty senate.

He was just about to doze off when a professor from the History department stood up and caught Tony's attention. His name was Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers was the kind of guy you only saw in movies -- it was a wonder he did not work in Hollywood. His dark hair served as the perfect contrast to his stunning blue eyes. He was muscular, but not in any way bulky. He walked with the exquisite confidence of someone who knew exactly who they were--a rare feature.

Tony's attention never shifted to the topic at hand, but at least his was paying attention to something in the room. Dr. Rogers' khakis were just tight enough to outline his beautiful ass. And Tony took notice. There wasn't anything about the history professor that Tony didn't like. From the firmness of his forearms to the thinness of his frame--Steve was Tony's type to a tee.

He would have to get to know him... but how?

* * *

After an embarrassing amount of time (and maybe a little hacking into social media private accounts), Tony still did not know much about his attractive colleague. He had B.A.s in History and Russian from Columbia, an MPhil in Social Anthropology from Oxford -- from his time there as a Rhodes Scholar -- and a Ph.D. in History from Harvard.

That's all Tony could find from his various university profiles. After hacking into his otherwise-private social media accounts (actually: account. Singular. All he had was Facebook. What century is this, anyway?), Stark could only find that Dr. Rogers was 34 and single. His facebook only revealed his distaste for right-wing politicians and his love of cat videos.

The lack of information only left Tony wanting for more. He had to sit down with this guy.

* * *

Dear Professor Rogers,

_No, no, no, that's way to formal_ Tony's inner monologue was relentless.

Steve,

_Ughhh that's too informal for having never met. Fuck it._

Dr. Rogers,

My name is Tony Stark -- we met briefly last night at the faculty senate meeting. I'm working on a project right now with NASA and ROSCOSMOS. I need someone to translate the descriptions that accompany some of the code my colleagues in Moscow sent that are in Russian. It seems they've made it far more complex than the code needs to be. All in all it's about 15 pages of text. It pays rather handsomely.

Let me know if you're interested.

Thanks, Anthony Stark, Ph.D. | Physics Department

* * *

Tony was not the kind of person who experienced anxiety. He was brilliant, accomplished, and good-looking for 40. But sending this email made his stomach feel light in a way it had not in ages.

Waiting for a response would suck royally.

Luckily, one came only a few hours later -- sent just after 6am.

Dr. Stark,

Hello! I'd love to meet up briefly to discuss this. It sounds like an interesting project. I'll come into your office hours tomorrow -- god knows our students don't make use of them.

See you then, Steve

Tony read the short email several times over, happy with Steve's response. He didn't have classes on Wednesdays, so he had all day to work on whatever he wanted. Often this meant research in his lab, but it also often meant lounging around his spacious flat until 2pm, eating leftover pizza and ice cream. On this specific Wednesday, it meant the later.

Tony set out a set of clothes for the next day. His goal was "snappy casual." He set out a button-down polo and a light blazer, a pair of fitted jeans, leather loafers, and his signature shades.

* * *

The next morning came quickly and Tony hurriedly prepared for class. He threw on his clothes, brushed his teeth, put on deodorant and cologne, and put the cologne in his bag for later, just before his office hours.

He has a 11:00am Atomic and Molecular Physics course to teach and he left his downtown apartment around 10:45. He was fashionably late, as usual, but the students didn't care. He collected papers and began his lecture on the advanced calculus the students would need for their next unit.

12:30 rolled around quickly and class was out. Tony made the walk across campus to his office and set out the papers he needed to grade. On second thought, he would email one of the Physics graduate students and have them grade the papers -- nonlinear dynamics was not exactly rocket science. (Well... it is, but it's the easy kind!).

His office hours on Thursdays were from 2:00-4:00. Unsurprisingly, when 2pm came along, there was not a single student in Tony's office. Tony put on the extra cologne he had packed and waited for Dr. Rogers to arrive.

"Hello, you must be Dr. Stark," Steve interrupted the silence, walking into Tony's office. "I'm Steve."

Tony knew exactly who he was. His bright smile gave off an aura of kindness and sincerity. Plus, the forearms were unmistakably his.

"Hello. It's a pleasure to actually get to meet you. Call me Tony." Steve sat down in the chair across from Tony's desk, taking up a relaxed but upright and attentive.

"So what exactly is the project you're working on and how can I help?"

"NASA and ROSCOSMOS are working together on code to enable more efficient docking on the International Space Station. I head the part of the project focused on mechanical physics. However, it is far too much code for one person to write, so we have teams both here and in Russia working on it. My Russian team members just sent me a lengthy section of code, which descriptions at each subpoint. However, they did not bother to translate them before sending it over. From looking at the code, it seems they over-complicated it, but I'd like to read their descriptions and get to know what was in their heads before I tell them to re-do it. That's where you come in."

"That sounds like something I could help with. But why'd you come to me? And how'd you even know I spoke Russian? I only introduced myself Tuesday evening as a History department faculty member." Steve chuckled and smirked, giving the question a light rather than interrogative tone. Tony's staring at Tuesday's meeting did not go unnoticed by Rogers and he had a feeling he knew why Tony asked him specifically.

Tony was taken aback by the question. Fuck. He only knew because he looked up Prof. Rogers' page on the history department's website. "Umm. It was actually on... uh... the Russian department's website. It had you listed as an affiliate faculty member on there and I recognized you from the meeting."

"Oh, I see. You put a lot of faith in meeting me once. Well, we didn't even actually meet. You just saw me talk from the back of the room. Why not ask one of the Russian language instructors? What if my Russian is super rusty by now in my old age?" Steve was having fun with this now. Watching the slightly-older, usually composed man squirm was entertaining. And frankly, quite cute.

"Well... uh... I'm not sure, actually. I guess I just hoped your Russian would be enough for the job." Tony responded, not fully answering the question. "It would pay around 100 dollars per page, so it would be a quick $2000."

Steve laughed. "My Russian is plenty good, I promise. I'd love to do the translation for you. How do I go about getting the material?"

"Umm. Well, I can email it to you later today and you could bring the final copy by my office next week?"

"I think I'd prefer to work from a hard copy instead of a digital one. How about you bring the files to dinner tomorrow night? 6:00pm at Marea in Manhattan."

Tony was shocked by the directness of his colleague. Had he been that obvious the other evening? "Um. Yah that sounds perfect. I'll be there."

The younger man picked up Tony's hand and lightly kissed the top before started to walk out. "It was nice to meet you, again, Tony."

* * *

Friday night came quickly, which Tony appreciated. Was this a date? Colleagues can just meet for dinner, right? But even at an upscale Manhattan restaurant? Well, yah. They were both Professors at NYU (and Tony was independently wealthy from his private sector work). They could afford it so why not? But it surely was not normal for colleagues to say goodbye with a kiss on the hand. Surely that meant more. Or did it?

Tony put on jeans and a polo with one-too-many buttons undone and headed for the restaurant. It was only an 8-minute walk from his apartment, but he took a cab anyway. He didn't want to be sweaty for their meeting. Date. Whatever the hell it was.

"Hello." Tony said to the hostess. "I believe I have a reservation for either Tony Stark or Steve Rogers. My friend made the reservation."

"Right this way, Mr. Stark. Your friend is already here. It's the table by the side window near the back left."

"Thank you."

Tony found Steve among the other customers and began walking towards their table. Steve stood up when he noticed Tony almost at the table. Steve was unsure how to greet Tony. A handshake was far too formal, as he was trying to see if there was any romantic interest on Tony's behalf, so he thought _fuck it_ and went for a hug.

This caught Tony off-guard, but it certainly was not unpleasant. The hug was short, but Tony could feel every muscle in Steve's forearms as the younger man gripped him. Steve was momentarily distracted by the warmth of Tony's neck against his cheek, but quickly regained his composure and sat back down.

"I got here a few minutes ago so I already ordered wine." Steve stated, pointing to the glass of Amarone next to Tony's plate. Tony willingly began to drink it. He needed to loosen up and he knew it.

The awkward small talk was surprisingly short. They moved into discussing their lives and stories rather quickly. They had more in common than Tony initially imagined -- after all, they had both gone through the grueling process of grad schools.

In a brief lull in the conversation, Tony handed Steve the documents, but conversation started right back up afterward. Before the knew it, they had completed the bottle of wine, started a second one, and gone through two appetizers.

The conversation took a more serious turn when Tony began talking about his ex. He explained that he moved back to Manhattan a few years ago after his boyfriend of 3 years, Justin Hammer, stole a code Tony had been working on for months and sold it to a researcher at MIT as if it were his own work. He told Tony merely minutes after the sale finalized and broke up with him over text. He had even already packed his stuff while Tony was at his Harvard lab that day.

Tony had had his share of hookups since then, but nothing serious. Steve's sympathy was far more genuine than anyone could expect on a first date. Erm.. meeting. His words were validating and full of compassion. No one had made Tony feel validated in years the way Steve did that night at dinner.

When Tony realized the wine had made him overshare, he shifted the conversation. "Wow. Okay. I hadn't said all that in quite a while. Sorry about that. So... uh... what brings you to teaching at NYU, Steve?"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Tony. I'm glad you shared that with me." His eyes had the unique ability to express the kindness of Steve's heart. "Anyway, as for me, I've been here since finishing up my Ph.D. a few years ago. No real, long-term relationships to speak of since I came to terms with who I was and stopped dating women in my early 20s."

Tony's heart skipped a beat. Confirmation. That's exactly what he needed. Steve was gay, after all.

The conversation continued for at least another hour before the split ways. They exchanged cellphone numbers so Steve could text Tony when the translation was finished.

However, it was Tony that texted Steve first.

**_to be continued_ **


End file.
